Unexpected Possibilties
by et-tu-lj
Summary: Tom realizes that someone unexpected is attracted to him and has to decide how to react. Contains elements of Paris/Kim and Paris/Torres, with Paris/EMH as the main pairing. Non-explicit slash and mild language.
1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note: **There are two sides to every story, and this one is no different. _Unexpected Possibilities_ tells Tom's version of events and _Witchcraft_ tells the Doctor's side. (_Witchcraft_ will post 5/22/12 as a separate story, in case you read this immediately after posting.) They're companion pieces, but can be read in either order.

Brad Harrison, Noah Mannick and the Subu war camp are from _Pathways_ by Jeri Taylor. They're dating in the book, making that the earliest homosexual relationship (that I know of) in an official ST show or novelization. And written by the show's executive producer, no less.

**Disclaimer**: I don't own Star Trek: Voyager, the novel _Pathways_, or the lyrics to _Witchcraft_.

* * *

Well, at least he didn't bring back any leola root. There was already too much of that on the ship's menu to begin with. I looked in dismay at the table full of strange plants in front of me. Neelix had just returned from a foraging mission, and had found more than thirty new plant specimens that he wanted to use in the galley. And as the acting medical assistant on duty, it became my job to catalog each sample's genetic and physical characteristics, as well as look for any medical threats. Although Neelix was trained to avoid poisonous plants, his knowledge used Talaxian physiology as its basis. He'd once caused the two Bolians on board to throw up nonstop for two days with his grandmother's recipe for Exalion Stew. After that incident, the captain had decreed that all foodstuffs be run through sickbay for comparisons against personnel medical files before being given to Neelix.

I entered the data from about half the plants into the medical database, then paused to take a break for a minute before finishing. I didn't mind sickbay duty most of the time, but the routine stuff like this really got to me. I didn't mind working with the Doctor, especially now that he'd developed a decent bedside manner, but for every hour I served in sickbay, I couldn't help but feel it was an hour I should've been at the helm. The work was usually easy enough, and I did like helping people, but it couldn't compare to the excitement of feeling the ship humming beneath me, knowing that it'd do whatever I wanted with the run of my hand across the controls.

When I looked up, I saw that Brad Harrison and Noah Mannick had come in sometime while I was processing the plants. Noah had apparently done something to his ankle and the Doc was attempting to fix it, but Brad kept getting in the way.

I heard the Doctor order Brad to leave sickbay and started toward the group before the situation could get any worse. The damn fruits could wait. Although the Doc's people skills have improved a lot since he was first activated, he can sometimes cause interstellar incidents when it comes to dealing with the worried loved ones of his patients.

I sidled up to Brad before he had a chance to react. I put my arm around his shoulders and gently steered him away, murmuring reassurances in his ear as I moved. He seemed a bit dazed and followed without resistance. Poor kid. Judging by the Doctor's attitude, the injury couldn't be that serious, but that wasn't what was important, not to Brad anyway. The two had just started to get serious about their relationship a few weeks before the Subu incident. The two men had ended up in an alien POW camp, along with a bunch of other crewmen, myself included. The experience wasn't exactly pleasant for any of us, but their relationship had somehow survived the stress. Brad, however, seemed a little worse for wear. He blamed himself for not being able to protect Noah, and had been a bit overprotective ever since.

"Come on Brad, you know the Doc can fix just about anything you can imagine if you let him work." I tried to be as reassuring as possible, saying everything I would want to hear if our situations had been reversed. Gods knew, I understood how the man felt. Every time something happened to Harry, I just wanted to swoop in and shoot anything that tried to get in my way. I'd be damned if I would let anything bad happen to Harry while I had anything to say about it. And the two of us were just friends.

Looking over Brad's shoulder, I saw the Doc signal me. I moved back toward the Doctor, Brad following automatically. I kept talking softly until Brad realized that the Doc had finished and Noah was ready to go. I smiled to myself as both men grinned at each other, obviously relieved. "Good as new," Noah said, smiling up at his partner, and the Doc nodded his agreement.

The two men started out the door, joking about Brad's excessive worry and whispering softly to each other. They turned back at the door. "Thanks, Doctor." It was Noah who spoke, but Brad's eyes clearly expressed his gratitude for my thoughtfulness as well.

The two continued on their way, and I watched them with a smile on my face. Ah, the joys of love. It'd been a while since I felt that way about anyone. B'Elanna was the only one I'd had a real relationship with since we'd all been swept to this quadrant and that had been over for a while. I'd really loved her, but we just didn't seem to understand each other well enough to make it work. After a while of being really good friends who just happened to have sex, we decided to go back to just being friends.

The only person on the ship who really did understand me that well was Harry, and we hadn't discussed that possibility yet. Not that I hadn't thought about it, quite a lot actually, but I need a friend more than I need a lover. For me anyway, friends are much harder to come by. I'd keep trying to get him over Libby, and if that ever succeeded, then I'd worry about the rest of it. While I thought it was a little naive to still be faithful to someone sixty thousand light years away, it was important to Harry. And the man's my best friend. If anything ever happened between us, I wanted the chance to love him, not corrupt him.

"Thank you, Mr. Paris, for your timely assistance," the Doc said as he turned back toward sickbay. I tried to get my mind back on my work, focusing all my attention on the Doctor. Gods, now I was daydreaming about Harry while on duty? "With Mr. Harrison," the Doctor prompted.

And I understood. The Doctor was thanking me for distracting Brad while he worked. I laughed inwardly. I was just trying to reassure Brad, not save the Doc. But the Doc wasn't programmed to understand that any more than he was programmed to deal with Brad. Some things you just had to be human to understand.

Wait a minute. I could swear the Doctor was blushing. Very faintly, but definitely blushing. But he was a hologram. Wasn't capable of blushing to express embarrassment, or anything else for that matter. Was he? Of course, I knew the Doc had added sexual subroutines into his program, so who knew what he was capable of expressing now. Hmm… what exactly would make a hologram blush?

"Are you feeling alright, Doc? I could've sworn you just…."

But the Doctor cut me off before I could continue. I stared at him, intensely concentrating on every nuance of his reaction. "I assure you, Mr. Paris, my program is functioning properly." Again the telling blush. And his eyes seemed to hold a note of desperation, not able to meet my questioning gaze. This was clearly denial. I was an expert on that and knew it when I saw it. But what would a hologram be in denial about?

"I have experienced a few minor errors in my program recently and haven't had the time to properly analyze them yet. I assure you, it is not significant enough to affect my medical abilities. I will engage my internal system analysis as soon as possible and this should correct the errors easily." The Doc was hedging the issue, clear as day. "If this does not repair the problem, I will contact Ms. Torres immediately. I assure you, Mr. Paris, I am fine."

I doubt that, but decided to let it slide for the moment. Maybe it really was just a simple program error. I'd let the Doc try to deal with it on his own. Whatever it was, I know from experience that no man in denial should be forced to face his demons until he was ready for them. No way I was going to do that to a friend, hologram or not, and that's what the Doc had become. "Sure, Doc. I guess I'll finish up the bioanalysis on Neelix's newest fruits. Let me know if you need anything."

Right now, I really did have to finish with those damned fruits. Or vegetables… whatever they were. Some of these Delta Quadrant plant species defied Terran classifications. The sooner I finished with the plants, the sooner I got to leave sickbay. Chakotay would be in command tonight, but Harry and I still needed to find a ploy to keep Janeway away from the holodeck tonight. The engineering staff had constructed a small still in Maintenance Access 473 off of engineering, and there was a party tonight to celebrate. Something the command team of the ship definitely couldn't be allowed to participate in. I still had a lot to do before then.

I hurried through the rest of the plants, processing them as quickly as possible, but making sure not to miss anything important in the process. Didn't want to make someone have a severe allergic reaction in the mess hall or anything. After I finished, I stuck my head in the Doc's office to let him know I was leaving.

"See ya at Sandrines later?" The Doctor nodded. I initially had to convince him that Sandrines was a valuable opportunity for perfecting his bedside manner, but once I got him started, the Doc enjoyed himself too much to miss it. Although I doubt he'd admit it. B'Elanna had even managed to draw him into the moonshine conspiracy by convincing him that it was his medical duty to examine all alcohol in case of contamination. I took one last look at the odd assortment of plants on the table and smiled. Free at last. I smiled in relief as I left sickbay. I had more important things to do. I had a party to plan.

The engineering still had started small, but had become a shipwide secret. Tonight's party was in celebration of achieving shipwide distribution, so only the people directly involved were allowed this evening. As the project grew, it'd definitely become a team effort. B'Elanna and Joe Carey made the stuff, Chell smuggled it to sickbay, the Doc inspected it for quality, and I delivered it to the rest of the crew. Harry monitored Tuvok's inspection schedule and alerted us when it was in danger of being discovered. In case of an inspection, the equipment was temporarily hidden with Neelix.

Although I wasn't sure how much Vorik was involved directly, he helped B'Elanna and Joe perfect the recipe when necessary. And we'd once escaped detention by having Vorik tell Tuvok that he'd checked all maintenance access ports in and around engineering and had detected no illegal activity. Tuvok didn't think to question the honesty of a fellow Vulcan. And Vorik claimed that he hadn't lied, but had merely exaggerated the truth under the orders of his commanding officer, in this case B'Elanna. Since Starfleet regulations didn't specifically prohibit the manufacture of alcoholic substances, only their consumption onboard a starship, the still wasn't technically illegal, only unauthorized.

I grinned. For all their logic, Vulcans had a surprisingly convenient morality when it served their purpose. Like when Tuvok had gone behind Janeway's back to secure alien technology in direct violation of the prime directive, claiming that he was making the logical decision which her position as captain prevented her from making. Of course, I had to agree that the logical decision wasn't always the moral one, but then I had never claimed to be a pacifist.

As I made my way to Harry's quarters, I was struck with a thought of pure inspiration. I knew the perfect way to keep the captain busy this evening, without even arousing suspicion. We just needed to think up some scientific paradox. Something that looked simple to solve, but didn't actually work when applied. Harry would know dozens of things like that. Harry could use his operations codes to feed the readings into the sensor logs, then B'Elanna could report it, and her own inability to solve it, just before she went off duty for the night. If I knew the captain at all, she would download the readings into her personal terminal and stay up all night drinking coffee and trying to figure it out. With an intellectual challenge like that, it'd be morning before it even occurred to her to think about anything else. She'd forget all about the holodeck. I was a genius. Now I just had to get Harry to help me work out the anomaly that'd keep Janeway up late.

* * *

It was halfway through the fifth round of shots that I started to realize something was wrong. I could feel the alcohol starting to make my head buzz. But Harry was still relatively sober. As much as I like the kid, I know he could never handle his liquor that well. This batch was stronger than usual, enough to make me grimace each time I took a shot, yet Harry barely reacted. Then he challenged me to a drinking contest and I knew what the problem was. I distracted Harry and B'Elanna by making some comment about what Vorik and Sandrine were doing, and quickly grabbed one of his drinks while their heads were turned.

Bastards. They'd fixed the drinks. Somehow mine were excessively strong, but Harry's had barely enough alcohol to taste. I looked around Sandrines and realized that everyone else in the bar seemed remarkably sober as well. This had all been planned.

I leaned back in my chair and thought for a minute. Tried to think of some way to get back at them, but my head was already a little too fuzzy to think straight. Harry turned back and repeated his challenge and I decided. What the hell, it was already too late to keep the scales even. Had already passed the point of no return. May as well make the evening as entertaining as possible. I accepted, but then added that this was just for entertainment. No way I was going to bet replicator rations on a game I knew I'd lose. I'd give them a good show, but I wasn't going to condemn myself to eating Neelix's food for a month.

Fifteen rounds later, I was beginning to question my decision. B'Elanna kept taunting me about being outdrunk by Harry. Didn't she know I'd figured it out? Wasn't that stupid. But I couldn't stop. I couldn't take my eyes off Harry. Couldn't stop staring. The way the black hair fell down across his eyes. The way he kept blushing under my intense gaze. Kept smiling widely, faint dimples showing, trying to pretend he was drunk. Lips so luscious I could barely restrain myself from leaning over to kiss them. So fucking gorgeous. My Harry. And so dangerously close, so beautiful, that I could barely breathe.

Gods, what was I thinking! I'd been just about ready to grab him and… Best not think about it. If something did happen with Harry, I wanted it to be perfect, not some drunken gesture in front of everyone. Had to find something else to think about.

I looked around the room, trying to find something else to focus on. But everyone else seemed busy doing something. Chell was talking animatedly to Vorik and the Doc. Guess Doc must've come in while I was drinking. Neelix and Joe Carey were playing pool. Only Sandrine seemed unoccupied.

Wait, I had an idea. I gestured Sandrine over to the table, trying to look suave, but grinning stupidly in spite of myself. "Vodka martini, shaken, not stirred." Managed to look sophisticated for a few seconds before laughing helplessly. Damn, I was drunk. I looked around and saw that no one else seemed to get the joke. Oh well, guess I shouldn't be surprised. Harry had shown an interest, but no one else seemed to get as excited about the twentieth century as I did.

Now there was an idea. Harry kept complaining about never getting to be the bad guy. Maybe I should start programming a 007 holonovel… Some of those villains had enough class to be fitting for Harry. And they were certainly evil enough. I snickered to myself. If Harry thought Chaotica's slave girls were hot, wait till he got an eyeful of the Bond girls. I smiled even wider and decided I should definitely try to remember this idea when I was sober. Couldn't wait to get my hands on one of those gadget-filled cars.

Sandrine brought back my drink and set it down in front of me. I ignored it. I'd be damned if I was gonna drink synthehol when there was genuine engineering moonshine around. I'd just been too amused by the idea to pass it up. One of those drunken whim things.

"Hey Har, you ever heard of Bond before?" I waited, but Harry didn't seem to recognize it. "Bond. James Bond." I chuckled in spite of myself. "Oh forget it. Guess you don't know enough about the twentieth century to get it."

Harry looked insulted, pouting as he retorted, "Hey, I know plenty about the twentieth century." Damn, he's cute when he pouts. "Just not the stuff you know. I admit I don't know anything about their transportation. But I've picked up a decent amount of that television stuff from you. And I am a musician after all. I know a hell of a lot more about twentieth-century music, at least."

I stood up abruptly. "The hell you do." I vaguely realized that I was overreacting, but with the alcohol in my system, I couldn't seem to help it. "I know more about twentieth-century music in my little finger than you'll ever know." Shit, that hadn't come out right. Harry started giggling and I stared in fascination. Such a little kid sometimes. But no little kid could ever look that fucking beautiful.

B'Elanna jumped in and I tried to pull my eyes away from Harry. Didn't know what she had to do with this, but I was grateful for the distraction. I tried to focus on her and saw she was staring at me in challenge. I pulled myself up to my full height and tried to look as intimidating as possible. What were we arguing about again? Oh, right. I knew that she didn't know that I knew about the drinks. Or something. Music, that was it. I tried to look arrogant, but knew I was too drunk to pull it off. "Pick a decade."

B'Elanna snorted, taunting me, "And you'll do what… Sing?" Damn. I loved her, or at least I'd once tried to. How the hell could she do this to me? Of course, I'd figured it out, but if she really thought I'd believed it, how could she be this cruel? I dimly realized that Harry was chuckling. The deep rumbling sound seemed to vibrate through me, but now I was too angry to wonder at the odd sensation. Him too?

But Harry would never be cruel to me. At least not on purpose. It was all B'Elanna's fault. "Sure." But that couldn't be right either. No matter what she really thought about our relationship, she wouldn't hurt me. "I can sing. Just pick a decade." I glared at her, still angry, but the rage was quickly bleeding away.

I made my way toward Doc and the piano. Must be the alcohol. I knew they wouldn't be cruel on purpose. Not really sure why I'd been so furious anyway. Just the shots. Hell, I'd already gotten myself into this, had to follow through with it now. I could sing. Just a short song and I'd be on an escape vector before I could humiliate myself any more. Easy as cake. Piece of pie. Something like that.

I scowled at that. If I couldn't even remember a stupid phrase, how the fuck was I gonna remember song lyrics? Oh well, too late for second thoughts now. I smiled at the Doc, sure that he at least hadn't been in on the conspiracy. "You'll help me get through it, right Doc?" To my relief, he smiled back, obviously on my side.

I took a deep breath and turned back to the crowd. I'd be damned before I'd let them get the best of me, especially through a dirty trick like that. They wanted a fucking show and they were damn well gonna get one they wouldn't forget. I'd teach them to mess with Thomas Eugene Paris. "Well…?" I summoned every bit of Maquis defiance, convict insolence, and admiral's son superiority I could muster. Nobody fucked with Tom Paris and got away with it.

To my annoyance, B'Elanna didn't seem intimidated. Damn Klingon. "How about the forties?" She looked to Harry for advice and for a moment I was afraid he would betray me. Unlike B'Elanna, he knew enough about twentieth-century music to really make me look like a fool. But Harry just shrugged, unwilling to help her. Thank the gods. "Yeah, the forties sound okay."

I turned back to the Doc, smiling to convince both of us that I could do this. For a second there I'd been afraid I was gonna have to sing disco. Hmmm… The Forties. Sinatra was from the forties, wasn't he? I could do Sinatra. "Doc, you know the song Witchcraft? Frank Sinatra?"

The Doc nodded, and I could tell he was trying to be as supportive as possible. I'd have to remember to thank him for this when I was sober. "Old Blue Eyes does seem rather appropriate." Damn, this man was really trying to be a good friend tonight. Every lover I'd ever had had commented on my eyes, but I didn't think the Doc had ever noticed.

It was now or never. I turned back to the audience, but couldn't shake the nagging feeling that I was missing something. The music started and I suddenly knew what it was. I needed a microphone. Couldn't very well sing Sinatra without a microphone. I let the music die off as I looked around for something to use. A beer bottle, that should work. I grabbed one off the bar and got ready to start again. This was gonna be great. I'd have them eating out of my hand. "Hit it, Doc."

The music began and I walked confidently into the audience, moving my hips to the rhythm. Might not be the best singer in the quadrant, but I knew how to use my body to distract them from that. This was a performance they wouldn't forget. With an evil grin, I straddled Harry as I began to sing, startling a surprised blush out of the younger man. "Those fingers in my hair," as I ran my fingers through his dark locks. Gods, like satin under my fingertips. Shouldn't have distracted myself so soon in the performance.

"That sly come hither stare." And I arched my back to gaze at B'Elanna over my shoulder. But I could feel Harry between my legs. My best friend between my legs. Harry's delicious flesh only inches away from my own… Thank the gods I was too drunk to get a hard on. Couldn't keep him from noticing that. Had to get away from him before I lost control. "That strips my conscience bare." No shit. I slid off Harry while I still could. No more of that. Not if I wanted to face anyone in the morning.

I moved around the room, seducing the audience in turn and suggestively caressing the bottle. I had them all under my spell. Harry was still beet red and B'Elanna was laughing in delight. Joe looked distinctly fascinated. Even Vorik had a hard time maintaining his quiet Vulcan demeanor when his turn came. I smiled in delight. Time for the final triumph.

I worked my way back toward the piano, perfectly timing myself to arrive as the instrumental section began. I commanded the computer to change the piano to a baby grand, lid down, and saw the Doc jump as it changed beneath his hands. Oops, probably should've warned him about that. No matter now.

I jumped up onto the piano, knowing that every eye in the room was focused on me. I closed my eyes and began to move my body, using my movements to seduce everyone there. Moved my hands slowly across my body, allowing my movements to suggest what I knew they wanted to see. They'd get their show all right. Let my hands wander suggestively across my chest and arms, even as I could feel their stares caressing my body.

I could feel the music penetrating every cell of my body, moving me with it. Could feel it pulling me along, as the tempo swelled, trumpets swooning in my ear. Could hear every part of it, layering on top of each other, tumbling and intertwining as the volume grew. Percussion bursting through the other layers of sound, overtaking me in its upward crescendo. Then suddenly part of it was gone. I opened my eyes, momentarily confused. The crowd was going wild, obviously enthralled, so no one else had noticed. The Doctor. That's what it was. The Doc had stopped playing.

I looked down to see what the problem was. The Doc was staring at me with the most intense expression I'd ever seen on him. One of amazement, fascination. I looked closer, trying to figure it out. I could see his total submission to my gaze, his unwillingness, or inability, to break eye contact. But I could also see the traces of shock in his expression. Not good. I leaned closer to him, trying to break whatever spell he was under. "You okay, Doc?" He started at my words, but they seemed to pull him out of it. The Doctor shook his head, visibly shaking off his thoughts. He looked down at the keyboard, trying to concentrate, and began to play again.

The instrumental section ended and I leapt off the piano. I let the music move me, guiding my words and performance automatically while I wondered about the Doc. What was that all about? Without thinking about it, I moved behind the piano, placing my hands on his shoulders. I stayed there a moment as I sang, but could feel his body suddenly tense under my hands. I looked down and could see fear in every line of his body. I could recognize that when I saw it too. Not sure what that was about either, but I wasn't gonna stick around to find out. I quickly moved away, finishing the song as I returned my attention to the audience.

I stood silent as the last strains of music died away and were then overwhelmed with applause. I waited, soaking up the applause, my brain working at warp to crystallize every detail of the moment in my mind. Harry looked so proud he could burst, clapping his hands together furiously. I noted with interest that his face was still a bit red, flushed with embarrassment and what I thought might be pleasure. B'Elanna was stamping her feet on the ground, her Klingon exuberance obviously on my side for the moment. Joe whistled at me and I teasingly licked my lips in response. This made the audience howl with laughter, and I knew I had them at my command. That'd teach them to fuck with Tom Paris. I stayed motionless, letting the noise slowly ebb, then bowed dramatically.

Remembering that humility was supposedly a virtue, I motioned the Doc to join me. When he stood at my side, we bowed together. The spell was broken and my friends started to surge toward me. Just before I was engulfed in congratulations, I glanced over at the Doc, expecting him to share in a little of the glory. But what I saw instead was panic. Clear, undeniable panic. Before I could react, I was surrounded by my friends. He'd vanished by the time I had a chance to look again.

What the hell could make a hologram panic? I excused myself as quickly as possible and hurried toward sickbay. I wanted to stay and soak up a bit more acclaim, but the Doc had become a close friend and I had to make sure he was okay first. Guess it was better to leave them wanting more anyway.

When I arrived at sickbay, the Doc had already deactivated himself. I debated reactivating him for a moment, demanding an explanation, but quickly decided against it. If it had frightened the man that badly, I should at least let him have a chance to pull himself together before confronting it. Besides, that'd give me a chance to try and figure it out for myself first. I reluctantly turned to leave, already deep in thought by the time I reached the door.


	2. Chapter 2

I reached my quarters, kicked off my shoes, and collapsed onto the couch. Tried to figure out what could be wrong with the Doc, but couldn't seem to think straight. Oh. Guess that shouldn't be surprising. Now that the adrenaline had worn off, I could definitely feel the alcohol again.

I got up and moved to search through my dresser drawer. Damn, where was it? Frustrated, I pulled the contents out, dumping them carelessly on the floor. Could've sworn I put it in here somewhere. Aha! I grabbed the hypospray, borrowed from sickbay, and made my way back to the couch.

I checked the settings as I sat back down. I held the hypospray up to my neck, closing my eyes briefly as I felt the medicine whooshing into my bloodstream. Then I tossed the hypo on the table and leaned back, giving the meds a chance to take effect. There, much better.

Now, let's see… What had made the Doctor freak out like that? Try to remember. What exactly was going on at the time? Something somebody had said. No, that couldn't be it. When the piano had changed under his hands, the Doc had jumped a little, but he'd been fine then. If whatever frightened him had already happened, he would've reacted a lot more severely. But the panic was there immediately after the song was over. What had happened between when I changed the piano and when the song ended?

I grimaced. That part was a little fuzzy. But I did remember being extremely drunk. And extremely horny. Gods, straddling Harry. What was I thinking? But that was before the piano changed. Before the instrumental part.

I vaguely remembered jumping up on the piano and dancing. The way the music had overwhelmed me. So intense. Somehow sexual, the way it had touched me. Moved me. I blushed deeply. Gods, what had that looked like? But the audience hadn't minded it. Had enjoyed it even. I remembered that much. Sinatra might not approve, but they'd sure appreciated it.

Was that it? I remembered the way the Doc had stopped playing so suddenly. When was that exactly? The drums. When I had… Gods, if I hadn't been so drunk, I could've almost… That look in his eyes. The way he hadn't been able to take his eyes off me. The fascination. The… desire?

The Doc? I didn't think he liked guys. Thought he hadn't before anyway. We'd become close enough friends that I thought I would've known about that. But it wasn't too long ago that he hadn't been capable of liking anyone that way. He'd only added his sexual subroutines a year ago or so. In sexual terms anyway, he was still a teenager. I hadn't known I was attracted to guys at that age. Hadn't yet known that no matter how many women I loved in my life, I would never want or be able to restrict myself to them. Not until Julian, years later.

At that thought, I stopped. I knew that look. The fascination. The surprise. Just a touch of shock. I'd felt that the first time I caught myself admiring Julian. Wondering what it would be like to kiss him. What those beautiful dark eyes would reflect if I tried.

And that panic. I knew that too. I'd strained my shoulder muscle playing Parrises Squares and he'd tried to ease the pain. Feeling those talented fingers, I'd relaxed. Let my mind drift. Realized suddenly how aroused I was. Those hands gently massaging my neck and shoulders, deeply working into my muscles. Feeling the heat of Julian's hands on my skin. I could feel my cock hardening and had fled in terror before he could say a word. Afraid I would lose my best friend over this. Wondering if he'd seen. Part of me even more afraid that he wouldn't mind, might have seen it all along.

I thought carefully, but could find no other explanation. It had to be. And this morning in sickbay. The Doc had gotten lost for a second, and then blushed. Now that I thought about it, I knew exactly what would make a hologram blush.

But what should I do about it? And what if I said something to him, and was completely wrong? Better make sure I was right first. But how could I do that?

I grinned evilly. A medical emergency. He couldn't avoid that. I'd just pull another shoulder muscle. Worked with me. If the Doc was attracted to me, it should work for him too. And I'd go now, so there'd be no one else to see. Before he had a chance to add an abstinence subroutine or something.

If I was right, it was probably the first time he'd thought anything like that. He was probably terrified. Gods knew, I had been. I'd never really been attracted to him before, but no matter what, I wanted him to know there was nothing wrong with it. Help him through the mental adjustment. Let him know it was okay, even normal. Like Julian had done with me. I blushed. Well, maybe not quite like that. But let him know I wasn't offended or shocked.

I debated changing into something different, but decided not to risk arousing the Doctor's suspicions. I was wearing plain black slacks and a bright blue dress shirt that I knew brought out my eyes. That'd be good enough. I slipped my shoes back on as I started out the door of my quarters. Time for another performance. I thought about it for a moment and fastened a few more buttons as I made my way to sickbay, leaving only the top one undone. This was gonna be fun.

I positioned myself slightly behind where the Doc usually appeared, so that I couldn't be seen immediately. May as well stack the deck. "Computer, activate emergency medical hologram."

The Doctor materialized instantly. "Please state the nature of the…." But no one was there. He looked around to see why he'd been activated, and found me standing only a few feet away. I looked at him, an apologetic smile on my face.

"Sorry to get you up so late, Doc." I nonchalantly undid the top button of my shirt as I talked. His eyes were immediately drawn to the action, watching as I unfastened another. "I know it's a little late – actually a lot early – but I didn't want to wait until morning." I let my words slur a little and rambled aimlessly. This would be a lot easier if the Doc thought I was still drunk.

"Of course it's alright, Mr. Paris. It's not like I was asleep. As you know, I…." His words died away, eyes riveted on me as I started undoing the third button. "What are you doing?"

I looked up at him, blinking my eyes quickly, in what I hoped was the picture of innocence. "I did something to my shoulder." The fourth button. "I just wanted you to take a look at it." Fifth button. "See if you could fix it." Sixth. I could tell he was barely listening anyway. "Not sure what I did exactly." I undid the last button and began to slide out of the shirt. "Feels like I strained the muscle or something." I let the silky fabric glide over my shoulders and drift down to the floor. "Thought I'd better let you have a look." And gods, was he looking! Couldn't tear his eyes away.

The Doc swallowed hard, trying to think of a sensible reply. I didn't want him to panic this time, so I quickly started talking again. I got up on the biobed and turned unsteadily, putting my back and supposedly injured shoulder in front of him. "Just to make sure there's nothing seriously wrong." There was a pause while the Doctor's medical programming struggled to overcome his obvious distraction. Still silent, he picked up a bioscanner and ran it over my shoulder, using the other hand to move my arm, testing the movement of the muscle. I tipped my head forward, stretching my neck down and to the side away from him, slightly arching my back toward him. In my peripheral vision, I could see his hand shaking slightly as it held the instrument. A definite tell. The hand directing my arm movements quickly disappeared as the Doc drew away.

"So what do you think, Doc?" I turned slightly and looked over my shoulder. He wavered slightly, never taking his eyes off my body, before replying.

"You're fine, Tom." Ha! He called me Tom! He never did that. "Absolutely nothing wrong with you."

I turned the rest of the way around, moving so that my leg rested against his arm, which was leaning heavily on the biobed. I ran one hand quickly through my hair, forming my lips into a slight pout, my eyes reflecting innocence and confusion, in a movement I knew from experience many found hard to resist. "Are you sure, Doc?" I exaggerated the pout a little more. "It feels wrong." Careful. Don't want to overdo it. This was just to confirm my suspicion, which it had definitely done, not to reveal my hand prematurely.

But the Doc was too distracted to notice. Still not looking at his medical tricorder for confirmation, he put one hand on my shoulder reassuringly. "Perfect, Tom. Not a thing wrong with you." His voice wavered slightly and the hand trailed lightly down my chest, seemingly of its own volition. He pulled it away abruptly, as if he'd touched something hot, and seemed to realize what he was doing. "You're fine, Mr. Paris," his voice all business again. "Just go back to bed. Sleep it off. I'm sure you'll feel fine in the morning."

He turned away from me sharply, physically willing the encounter to end. I shrugged my shirt back on, but stayed next to the biobed buttoning it until the Doc turned to face me again. I smiled gently at him, wanting him to understand that it was all right. "Thanks, Doc." I waited until he looked up to meet my eyes. I made my voice as soft as possible, my expression gentle and reassuring. "Even if it's just my imagination, having you look at it makes me feel better." To my relief, I could see surprise and affection in his gaze, but none of the fear I had seen earlier.

"Anytime, Tom." The Doc smiled slightly, then looked away in embarrassment. Satisfied, I started out the door, a smile on my face. Behind me, I heard him take a deep breath, hold it for a moment, and then exhale slowly. Then deactivate himself, his voice a little unsteady.

The door slid shut behind me and I grinned even wider. Wow. Even more obvious than I had thought. But now what to do about it? I'd have to have a long talk with Harry first chance I got. Attraction aside, he always knew exactly what to say about stuff like this. And he'd never reacted unfairly to anything I said, not even when he'd misunderstood and thought Kes and I had done something behind Neelix's back. He would help me figure out what I wanted to do about this.

* * *

Most of the next day had passed and I still hadn't had a chance to talk to Harry. We were on different shifts today and Harry was already on duty by the time I'd woken. Now I had less than fifteen minutes before my shift in sickbay ended and I could see if Harry was available.

I glanced up briefly as Chakotay and Janeway walked into sickbay. This had the potential to make the time go by a little faster. I shamelessly eavesdropped for a moment, but this was apparently a routine captain intervention call. Janeway had the habit of ignoring her basic bodily needs until Tuvok or Chakotay ended up dragging her to sickbay. Then the Doc would treat her as quickly as possible before she attempted escape. A silly but familiar ritual which I usually wasn't involved in.

I turned back to my equipment and continued my inventory. Once a month, I was required to do a physical count of all the sickbay equipment to make sure everything was accounted for and functioning properly. A thoroughly boring task, but it does allow me a little flexibility. That's how I managed to borrow the hypospray for last night without detection. It was back in its designated spot this morning, since it would be simple for me to borrow it again the next time there was a celebration planned.

I completed the inventory and began to sort everything out again, putting it all back in its proper storage compartment. Thinking about the unusual events of last night and planning how I could best explain them to Harry, I started whistling to myself. Almost time to go now. As soon as I finished this, my shift should be nearly finished.

Some part of my mind registered that the activity behind me had come to a full stop. I heard Janeway say something about me being distracting in a laughing tone of voice. I turned to see what was happening and saw the Doc adjusting his equipment to treat the captain. She was looking at him, her curiosity and interest obviously engaged by something. I studied him more closely and saw that his cheeks were distinctly flushed. Huh? She turned to study me as well, obviously seeing some connection between us at the moment. What had I done? Witchcraft. I realized the tune I'd been whistling was the song from Sandrines. Oh. No wonder the Doc had reacted. But I hadn't meant to… He probably thought I was taunting him or something. I felt myself blush guiltily and realized she was still staring at me. I turned back to my work, thankful my shift was almost over.

I could sense the captain moving behind me a minute later, rapidly accelerating as she left sickbay. I avoided looking up as she passed me. As soon as she was gone, I checked the chronometer on the wall. Time's up. I grinned at the Doc, noting the odd look on his face, and immediately assumed a similar flight plan. Time to depart.

And definitely time to talk to Harry. With or without his advice, I needed to figure out what I wanted to do about the Doc. If I was affecting him during medical procedures, on the captain especially, I'd better decide how I wanted to react. While I still had the option.

"Computer, locate Ensign Kim." I started down the corridor toward Harry's quarters. If I knew my friend at all, he'd probably be relaxing in his quarters, practicing his clarinet as he unwound from a long day of bridge duty. Harry loved the excitement of being on the bridge, but I knew that he constantly pushed himself to impress the captain and make her proud of him, so that at least when Janeway was on the bridge, a duty shift was still exhausting for him. Of course, I knew that Janeway would be proud no matter what he did, but I wasn't about to disrupt his eagerness. A little youthful enthusiasm never hurt anyone.

"Ensign Kim is in his quarters." Besides, he looked so cute when he'd found some new anomaly, barely able to contain his excitement, innocent grin lighting up the entire bridge from his station at ops. And his enthusiasm was important to the crew. I'd figured out long ago that the perfect bridge crew required a lot more than just competent officers. We had to work together well as a group, each personality complementing the others, pulling us together into a cohesive unit that would fight together and die together if necessary. Each person had to contribute their unique personality to the whole, providing what no one else could.

And of all the ships I had ever served on, Starfleet or Maquis, this one accomplished that the best. Janeway was the backbone of the ship, her stubborn determination holding the crew together by sheer will when necessary. She was the rallying point for everyone else, the person that held us together and gave us our identity, the driving force pushing us ever homeward. And if Janeway was Voyager's backbone, Chakotay was its heart. His quiet compassion and firm ethics always kept us in check, making sure that we never forgot who we were in our quest to get home. Tuvok was the voice of reality, his disciplined mind providing constant support for everyone else, keeping us safe and emotionally separate from the situations we faced when necessary. Harry's naivete and constant optimism kept us from ever giving up, even as he reminded us all of what exactly we were trying to get home to.

And me? I chuckled to myself. Well, guess I would have to count as the comic relief. Providing a sarcastic comment to lighten the mood whenever the tension got too thick. An outlet for the frustration of being trapped here. And of course, the best damn pilot in the quadrant.

I looked up, a smile on my face, at the sound of clarinet music drifting through the door of Harry's quarters. I made my way in and flopped down on the couch as quietly as possible so as not to disturb his concentration. We had long ago given up formalities, no longer bothering to ask permission to enter or to arrange meetings in advance, instead settling into comfortable companionship. We spent almost all of our off time together now and understood each other well enough to forego a lot of the ordinary stuff.

Harry's eyes lit up in acknowledgement as I came in, and he moved over to sit on the opposite arm of the couch as he continued playing. I leaned back into the couch and made myself comfortable, slipping off my shoes and throwing an arm across the back of the couch toward him. I closed my eyes and listened as he continued the song. It was a light-hearted tune, yet slow and soft, something I'd never heard him play before. I felt myself relaxing into the music, the notes soothing my restlessness away.

After a few moments, Harry finished playing and moved to put the clarinet back in its case. He returned to the couch and sat down next to me, putting his feet up on the table as he settled in. "Haven't heard that one before, but I like it a lot. What is it?" He smiled warmly, obviously pleased that I'd enjoyed it. That's probably the thing I love about him the most. He's always so open, so free with his emotions. He never keeps anything inside, doesn't seem to be capable of it, even if it lets him get hurt.

"Something I just started. I haven't given it a title yet." Harry studied me for a moment, looking into my eyes and carefully watching my face. I had the distinct impression that I could hide nothing from this man. Would never need to. "What is it, Tom?"

I hesitated, blushing. I'd certainly never hesitated telling him about any of my infatuations before. And I'd never said anything that implied I only liked women. But I'd never been attracted to any of the men on the ship before, at least not enough to talk about.

Except of course for Harry. And that made it all much more complicated. Part of me thought that if I said anything about it, I would end up telling him about my feelings for him, and that everything between us would change. I wasn't a man who was afraid of much of anything, but the thought of losing Harry scared the hell out of me. I'd never had a friendship like this before, but now that I knew what it was like, I wouldn't give it up for anything.

"Well? Something's on your mind." He still smiled, encouraging me, but not pressing for information. Gods, how I love this man, the friend I would sacrifice everything for, yet who never asked for anything. And despite my hesitation, I knew deep down that he would never give up our friendship either. There was nothing to fear.

"Last night, after Sandrines…." I saw him flush in guilty embarrassment and offered him a forgiving smile before continuing. "I went to see the Doc." How was I supposed to broach this subject for the first time? Shit. May as well take the direct approach. "I think… No. I know he's attracted to me." I paused, judging Harry's reaction. He looked surprised, rapidly soaking up this new information, but said nothing. I could see no hint of disgust or disbelief. Should've known better than to think he might respond with that. "And I'm not sure what I want to do about it."

I waited as Harry considered his statement. "You're certain?" He studied me, as if making sure we were talking about the same thing before he responded.

I thought about last night, remembering how the Doc had stared at my body. Remembering the surprisingly warm touch of his hand trailing helplessly across my chest. I was certain all right. "Yeah. I'm sure." I wasn't quite able to keep a suggestive grin from my face and was delighted to see Harry flush crimson in response.

"Well," He recovered quickly, not so much hiding his embarrassment as channeling it into an eagerness to help. "Are you attracted to him?" He leaned forward, awaiting my answer.

"I don't know, Harry." Gods, it was so simple to him. Everything about Harry was uncomplicated and unconditional. "I never thought about it. He's a hologram. I didn't think it was even possible for him." I shrugged defensively, suddenly not sure this was a good idea. He just looked at me, pure innocence, not understanding what the problem was.

"Tom…." Harry blushed again, looking slightly uncomfortable. "Do you have a problem with… that?" Shit. He couldn't even bring himself to say it. He was so young, just a child really.

"No. Definitely not. And no matter what, I want to make sure he understands that there's nothing wrong with it. Help him accept it." I spoke quickly, automatically, filled with sudden guilt over my feelings for him. Harry was so naïve. Couldn't even talk about sex without blushing. And I'd spent so many nights dreaming of him, jerking myself off while I imagined him there in bed with me.

"I…." He spoke softly, almost to himself. "I never knew." I looked up in embarrassment, even now imagining the feel of his soft golden skin under my fingers, remembering the satin texture of his hair. But I could see no reproach in his eyes. Only… hurt?

Shit. He thought I'd hidden this from him because I didn't trust him. My best friend in the universe, once my only friend, and I'd hurt him with secrets. I never told people about my past, didn't think any of that shit had anything to do with who I was now. But I honestly tried to be open with Harry. Had never wanted to drive him away with lies or defenses. And he'd accepted everything unconditionally from that first moment in the mess hall when Cavit told him about the deaths. And now I'd hurt him by not telling him the only thing about myself that I felt no guilt or shame over. Because I didn't want him to figure out how much I wanted him. Stupidity and selfishness.

"Oh, Har." I reached out for him, knowing the physical connection would reassure him as it always did. "I wasn't trying to keep it from you." I maintained eye contact, determined not to break away defensively. "It just hadn't come up. I haven't been attracted to anyone that way since I came onboard Voyager." Only you, Harry. "Not for a long time, in fact. It just didn't seem important." Nothing but lies. The only thing he didn't deserve from me. I grasped his hand tighter, determined to make it up to him. "I'm so sorry, Har. I should've told you." Should tell you the rest of it now. But I couldn't bring myself to do it. Found myself unable to meet his eyes any longer. Although I trust him completely, know he'd never hate me, I couldn't say it. Things are never so simple for me.

"Tom, it's alright." Harry squeezed my hand in return, then dropped it softly. He moved his hand to my chin, gently moving my head up to meet his eyes. He held my gaze for a moment, then let me go, my eyes fleeing instinctively to the safety of the floor. But in that moment he managed to convey complete forgiveness, trust, and unconditional love. Without ever demanding any of the details, he understands the darkness in me and cares for me anyway. I wished desperately that I'd done something in my life to deserve the friendship of this remarkable man. Wished everything was different. Wished I could change myself, be the loving, open friend that he deserved.

But I could be strong. That much I'm good at, at least. I pushed down all the confusion, compressing it down until it was just a tiny ball of seething blackness. Visualized pushing it back into a corner of my mind. I'd be damned if I was ever going to let it touch Harry. With this thought, I could feel the pain receding. I stayed silent for a moment longer, carefully rebuilding my control before I looked up at him again.

Harry still waited, letting me take as long as I needed, and I knew he'd never mention this momentary lapse of control. I smiled at him, letting him know that everything was all right, and he continued as if nothing had happened. "You said you'd never considered it. Because you're genuinely not interested? Or because he's a hologram?" He leaned back again, putting his hands behind his head as he thought. "He is someone you feel comfortable with. Someone you enjoy spending time with. Someone you trust and respect. Isn't he?"

I thought about it, considering. All of that was true. Although we'd clashed at first, we'd become friends. I'd watched the Doc grow over time, constantly trying to move beyond the constraints of his original program. And I had to admit I respected his skill and commitment, never giving up until he found a cure. And admired his compassion for his patients. I remembered the anguish he'd gone through after losing Jetal, blaming himself for her death. No simple hologram could have felt the pain of that loss as the Doc had, literally destroying himself until the captain deemed it necessary to erase the incident from his memory records. I knew he was capable of far more depth of feeling than his creators had ever intended.

"Yeah, he is." I looked at Harry gratefully. Amazing how this man could always make me see what I already knew.

"So since he's a friend. Since you do trust him. Why not?" Harry's eyes were focused on the ceiling, thinking aloud as he tried to figure out the best counsel to offer. "You're both single. If he's attracted to you, he must be willing to pursue a relationship." He leaned toward me suddenly, decision made. "So it just remains to figure out if you want to pursue one."

Everything so simple for him. If only that were really the way things worked. But I could foresee no complications with the Doc. Wasn't the kind of person to pry into my past, demand things I wasn't willing to share. And I did want to make sure he didn't feel rejected. "I'm not really sure if I do or not." Don't want to give up on my dreams of you yet. "But I do want to be his friend through this. Until he figures it out for himself."

"Well, that solves both problems." Harry had apparently figured it all out, had the situation all laid out like an operational problem. Now he just had to make the proper connections between things and everything would work out perfectly. "Just accept it as it comes. Let him direct the relationship until you figure out what you want. Then if you decide against it, you'll still have expressed your support and friendship. If you decide you want to try it, you won't have slammed any doors shut yet." He beamed at me, his smile making my heart melt slightly. The perfect solution. Well, maybe Harry's optimism would win out over my own cursed luck this time. Not everything had to end badly. Simple law of probability.

I smiled at him, leaning over to place a hand on his shoulder. "Thanks, Har. Maybe you're right." I stretched my arms back over my head, easing the tension in my shoulders and signaling the end of the subject under discussion. "Have you eaten yet?" I knew if it'd been a particularly long day on the bridge, Harry tended to prioritize his clarinet over eating, at least until the music restored his energy and optimism.

"No, not yet. Figured I'd wait until you got off so we could go together." He moved to get up and we both started toward the door in companionable closeness.

"Afraid to brave Neelix's cooking alone, huh?" As expected, he smiled widely, nodding through his laughter. I could always make Harry laugh. "Can't say I blame you." I put one arm around his shoulders automatically as we walked out the door and down the corridor toward the mess hall. "Think it'll be blue or pink tonight?"

* * *

"Don't worry, I've got the cure for Telurian Plague right here." I quickly injected William Telfer with an empty hypospray. I'd figured out that it was much faster to simply cure Billy with a placebo effect than to try and convince him he'd never been sick in the first place.

"But I didn't think there was a cure for the Telurian Plague." Billy glanced up at me doubtfully, reluctant to believe that he wouldn't be dead by the end of the month. I smiled at him as reassuringly as possible.

"Well, that was true." I waited for him to stop looking satisfied and terrified at the same time before continuing. "But the Doctor discovered the cure just last week." Billy looked up at me incredulously. Better come up with a convincing explanation. "The Doc's been analyzing the Vidiian cure we got for Chakotay and the captain ever since he got his hands on it. He's been able to learn a great deal about their approach to medicine. Once he figured out their more advanced techniques, he was able to apply them to many of the remaining incurable diseases." Billy looked over at the Doc with awe in his eyes. Damn, I'm good at bullshitting. I'd almost believed it myself. "You're the first patient we've had a chance to use the new serum on."

"Wow, I hadn't realized." He was genuinely impressed. "And you say I'm the test case?" Billy looked positively radiant with excitement. He hopped down off the biobed and almost skipped out of sickbay. "I'd better keep detailed records. To record the effects of the treatment for posterity. And any possible side effects." I grimaced. Hadn't considered that possibility. Oh well, it'd keep him busy and out of our way for a while.

I glanced up and saw the Doc on an approach vector. Shit. Hope he didn't hear that part about being a test case.

"Mr. Paris, I believe it is time for us to take the next step." Now? On duty? When I decided to take Harry's advice and let the Doc direct our relationship initially, I hadn't expected him to move so fast. "In your medical training." Oh. But the hurried addition and the slight blush showed that the thought had obviously occurred to him as well. Had probably been imagining pinning me to the biobed. Hmm, not a bad idea at that. Might have to try that later if our relationship did end up changing to a sexual one.

"It is time for us to try something a little more challenging for you." The Doc covered his embarrassment well, but not quite well enough to keep me from seeing through it. "With your approval, I would like to begin training you in advanced surgical techniques. So that if anything ever goes wrong with my program, you will be able to perform all medical procedures as required until I can be brought back online." Gods no! I'd have to spend all my time in sickbay. I'd barely even get to see the bridge. And Voyager needs its best pilot at the helm.

But I supposed it was a possibility. And the ship couldn't do without a doctor any better than it could without its pilot. "That should never happen," I said reluctantly, hoping it never did, "but I guess it makes sense to be ready just in case." But did that mean I'd have to give up duty hours at the helm to train here? I wanted to spend more time with the Doc to see where this relationship might be headed, but not if it meant letting someone else fly the ship. "Does this mean I'll have to put in extra duty hours in sickbay?"

"No, Mr. Paris." Thank the gods. "I have talked to the captain and she has agreed to assign most of your routine medical duties to other personnel so that we can focus on your training without detracting from your other duties on the ship. I have also arranged my appointments to allow us as much time together as possible." Bet that wasn't just because of the training either. "If you agree, the change in assignments will take effect at your next duty shift." But I really didn't want to start something here in sickbay. What if there was a medical emergency or something? I needed to get us on neutral ground to see where this went. Someplace private.

"I agree. On one condition." I paused dramatically, letting the Doc hang in suspense for a bit before putting him out of his misery. "If I'm going to take surgical lessons with you, the deal has to work both ways. That means you get to take piloting lessons with me." The holodeck would be perfect.

He seemed pleased at this suggestion. "Very well, Mr. Paris. That seems an equitable arrangement. I agree to your condition."

"Perfect." This was going to be fun. And I had a couple hours scheduled in the holodeck tonight so there was no reason to wait. "You close down sickbay in a couple of hours, right Doc?" I asked, already knowing the answer. "Then how about we start the training tonight? I've got an hour or two of holodeck time tonight and hadn't decided what to use it on yet." Actually, I'd planned to surprise Harry with a drive-in movie simulation and a midnight showing of 'Killer Clowns From Outer Space', but I could do that another night. "If you just meet me there at, say 1900 hours, I've got some flight sims I can take you through. Think I'll start you off easy. Probably a shuttlecraft sim."

The Doc agreed without hesitation. Obviously he was eager to spend time alone together as well. I glanced at the chronometer and realized my shift was officially over. I smiled at him as I headed out the door. Now I just had to figure out how I wanted to change the sim this time. I always liked to program in some kind of surprise to test anyone I trained. Of course, I didn't really expect them to solve it, but it was always interesting to see which ones managed to figure it out on their own. Usually I programmed some kind of mechanical failure, but I figured Kes might've said something to the Doc about her first training simulation. They'd been pretty close from the beginning and I wouldn't want him to be able to anticipate my surprise. Besides, he was a doctor, not a shuttle maintenance program. Probably wouldn't know how to fix a technical problem, even if he could identify it.

I entered my quarters and stood in the middle of the room. I only had a few hours before I'd arranged to meet the Doc. How was I supposed to get everything ready by then? First things first, I supposed.

I commed Harry and moved over to the closet while I waited for him to respond. "What's up?" He wasted no time, knowing I would recognize his voice instantly.

"Just wondering if you'd eaten yet. I'm going to grab a quick bite to eat in the mess hall and wondered if you wanted to join me." Hmm, now what did I want to wear tonight? I thought for a moment and picked out plain jeans and a comfortable dress shirt, all in black. Seemed appropriate somehow.

"I don't think I want to eat quite yet, but I'll come with you anyway. You can tell me all about your plans." I could hear the smile in his voice and knew he was laughing in amusement. No point trying to hide anything from Harry, even if I wanted to.

"Sounds great. Give me… ten minutes to change." I kicked off my boots and sat down to quickly strip off my socks.

"Sure. I'm already out of uniform, so I'll meet you at your quarters." Inspired, I grabbed a worn leather jacket, also black, and added it to the pile on the bed. Too much for the mess hall, but it'd be perfect for later.

"Great. See you in a few." The com line cut out and I smiled, knowing Harry was probably on his way out the door now. I found the hidden zipper and shimmied out of my uniform, leaving it in a heap on the floor. I grabbed the jeans from the bed and pulled them on. They were just tight enough to show off my body, but worn enough and loose enough to be immensely comfortable. I hesitated for a moment, then paused to grab my socks from the floor and throw them into the clothing recycler. I picked up my uniform from the floor and threw it on the bed instead. Harry was a bit more conscious of neatness than I was and I tried not to leave the place too much of a wreck.

I heard the door to my quarters slide open in the other room. "In here, Har." I smiled at him as he made his way in and flopped down on the bed. Well, the part that wasn't covered in clothes anyway. "Almost ready." I turned and caught the shirt as he tossed it to me. I shrugged into it and started buttoning it as I watched him.

Harry had leaned up against the pillows, pushing aside the clothes to stretch his legs out the length of the bed. He had his hands crossed behind his head, arms stretching his shirt tight across his chest. Shit. And it was that shirt too. The black and gray striped one I had first seen him wear in Neelix's resort program. The one that was just thin enough to see through when the light was right. Of course, I was sure he hadn't realized that. And I sure as hell wasn't going to be the one to tell him. Might stop wearing it.

I turned away to look for my shoes. Damn it, I knew they were here somewhere. Plain black ones, worn leather, came up a little above the ankle. Almost like the ones that went with the uniform, but a hell of a lot more comfortable. They were supposed to be in the closet. I glanced around but didn't see them in the floor anywhere.

"In front of the couch. Other side." I followed Harry's directions and sure enough, there they were. I grabbed them and made my way back to the bed, pushing the jacket aside a little further to sit next to him. I grinned at him while I put on my socks and shoes. Both because he knew where to find my shoes and because my uniform was now neatly folded on the end of the bed.

"Thanks." Harry smiled, uncrossing his arms. I moved to let him up, then rose to follow.

"Ready?" I nodded and we made our way to the door.

"Wait." I paused at the door and started back. "I forgot…" but he held out my communicator and I didn't need to finish the thought. I shrugged and attached it to my shirt as we went out the door. Sometimes it's almost frightening how well this man knows me.


	3. Chapter 3

The smell of spent plasma leaking from the damaged shuttle under repair. The perfect detail. I pride myself on the level of detail in my holoprograms and am constantly trying to think of little touches to add in. I stared absent-mindedly down the corridor, trying to think of anything else I could add to the shuttle bay simulation. Of course, most training simulations didn't even bother including the bay itself, instead opening directly into the shuttle, but most weren't Paris creations. To really learn how to do something, the experience needs to be as authentic as possible. Anything that clues you into the fact that you're still on the holodeck tends to make your responses artificial. And flying is all about controlling the craft naturally.

I slowly became aware that I was being watched, then glanced around to find the Doc behind me. I smiled at him in greeting. "Hey Doc, glad you're here. I've got the program all ready for us." Time to get down to business. I'd never been very good at waiting. I was more than ready to ante up and get the game going.

"Did I misunderstand our meeting time, Mr. Paris? I had not realized I was late." The Doc looked worried.

I realized that I was allowing my restlessness to show. I'd tried to stay in my quarters until it was time to come here, but Harry said he had plans and left early. Once I was alone, I couldn't stop wondering about the possibilities of tonight's meeting. I'd eventually given up and come to play with the simulation instead, programming the Doc's surprise and adding a few more textural details. "Guess I got a little antsy waiting in my quarters," I said, trying to reassure him, as I accessed the program on the computer. "I decided to go ahead and come down early. I wanted to make a couple of modifications to the program before you got here." He tilted his head in query. "Don't worry, Doc. I just changed the program to assume the operator had an eidetic memory and the highest level of manual dexterity." That and added a couple of wild cards.

The Doc performed a perfect Tuvok impression in response, raising one brow just the right amount, allowing the rest of his face to remain perfectly impassive. He stated dryly, "I was not aware Starfleet shuttle simulations were so adaptable."

I tried not to grin, managing to appear offended. "They aren't, Doctor. I would never try to train someone with one of those programs." I held my hand to my chest in pretend hurt. But couldn't keep the pride from my face as I continued. "This is my baby. This program can challenge a pilot of any skill level. I still use this program when I'm not running sims with Voyager or the Flyer. And I brought Naomi here for a piloting lesson once."

I gestured the Doc through the arch, noticing that he seemed slightly nervous. Good, not the only one. He stopped dead once he got inside, obviously taken aback by the intricacy of the simulation. I grinned shamelessly, glad he appreciated the level of detail. It had taken me weeks to get just the right frequency of the warp engines, enough that you could hear it and feel it thrumming through the decks, but subtle enough that it blended back into the background almost as soon as you became aware of it. I paused to let him take in the full effect, almost laughing at the way his eyes widened at the simulated crewman working to repair a second shuttle. I moved to the entrance of the nearest shuttle and waited. After a few long seconds looking around the shuttle bay, he moved to follow, quickly replacing his awe with determination as he followed me inside.

I made my way to the pilot's seat and made myself at home. "Well, Doc. I guess class is in session." I smiled at him, finding some amusement in being able to instruct the Doctor for a change. I explained the basic layout of the lesson, but could tell he was having trouble concentrating. Oh well, that's what the memory records were for. "Anybody can learn to take off and land a shuttle safely." Or to teach someone else to do it. "But flying… That's an art." This part was the hardest to explain. And the hardest to teach. The passion and talent for piloting was something that seemed to just come naturally for some, although others could sometimes catch up if they worked at it hard enough. I always try to describe it as best I can, but I know few people really understand.

"Instinctively controlling the ship. Becoming one with it, feeling its power within you and learning to direct it as naturally as you would your own body." Falling short again. "I don't really know how to explain it. You can memorize every flight pattern in the manual, learn every technical parameter of the ship, and still be only a competent pilot. To really learn to fly, though… You have to find it inside you. Make the ship a part of you. So that you become aware of every centimeter of space outside the bulkheads as easily as you are of the controls in front of you. So that when you become aware of something, you respond instinctively and the ship moves with your perception before you even consciously process the thought."

I stopped awkwardly. Still not right, but it was the best I could do. And I probably sounded like an idiot trying. Too bad Telarun of Betazed hadn't been a pilot. Or Dickens. Someone with a gift for description. "Not that you'll feel it the first time, but I think you'll understand what I mean once you get behind the conn. It works its way into your blood." And that part at least was completely accurate. Once you feel it, you can never be the same, will simply waste away if deprived of it.

I turned back to the controls, automatically preparing for lift off. I had to focus on saying things aloud, making sure to explain all the things that came so naturally to me so that the Doc could understand. I talked him through the pre-flight sequence and launch procedures as I worked. At last, we were off the deck and heading toward open space. I felt a shudder of relief pass through me as we left the confinement of the ship, reaching the cold vacuum of space and the serenity it offered. Apart from the welcoming stillness of space, there was nothing on the forward viewscreen as far as the eye could see. What few molecules bounced off our shields were barely heated enough to vibrate. It was a stark contrast to the incessant motion of Voyager: the crew, the engines, everything moving at light speed. I love watching the trails of the warp stars, but seeing a stationary starfield from a shuttle is always breathtaking. Everything seemed so much smaller from Voyager, so much more cluttered and urgent.

I maneuvered the shuttle in a series of loops and turns, reveling in the responsiveness of the small craft. But I was supposed to be teaching here, not just enjoying the vastness of space. "See. Nothing to it, really. Most of it is just paying attention to all the little details. After that, it's just instinct." I moved the shuttle into a slow, tight roll. Could never do that with Voyager. The ship had more power, but its size kept me from doing some of the fun stuff. That was part of the reason I'd built the Delta Flyer. She had almost as much power and speed as Voyager, and surpassed the maneuverability and flexibility of any Federation shuttlecraft. "You have to get a feel for the way the ship moves, get to know her controls, find out how she responds when you give her a command."

But that was enough simple maneuvering. Time to show the Doc how to handle a battle situation. "Computer, initiate battle sequence, three opponents, level seven." Just enough to keep it interesting for me, but not enough to make it hard for him to follow. Three alien vessels materialized, all much larger than the small shuttle. Continuing my ongoing narration, I maneuvered quickly between them, testing their maneuverability and speed before bothering to transfer tactical controls to the helm. I prefer to let the computer chose opponents randomly so that I won't know what to expect. Not as challenging as my special programs, but it doesn't seem fair to use mine when I already know the surprises.

I determined that although all three vessels were more heavily armored, with much greater firepower, none approached me in maneuverability. I transferred tactical to my console and the battle began. I decided to only take the perfect shots so that it wouldn't be over too quickly. The three ships were no match for me in terms of maneuverability and I wanted to give the Doc a chance to watch for a while before putting him in the pilot's seat. One of the ships was destroyed quickly despite my easy pace. I spent the next minute manipulating one of the remaining ships into position, teasing it into firing at me, then darting out of the way to let it destroy its ally in the crossfire. Only one ship left. And I hadn't drawn it out long enough.

But I could still teach him some things about maneuvering, as well as strategy. It requires different skills to perform complicated maneuvers with a hostile ship still active. "Unless they've got you outnumbered, ships like that aren't really a challenge. They're so much less maneuverable that you can just take your time and wear them down. Superior firepower doesn't mean anything if they can't hit you." I relaxed into my seat, demonstrating maneuvers but not bothering to fire phasers. "I like to practice maneuvers with an enemy ship still alive and kicking. Makes it a little more interesting. And helps you hone your awareness of the space around you at the same time." That was really the key to piloting: knowing where everything was around you without having to consult the sensors or glance at the viewscreen. Sometimes I like to test myself by closing my eyes and depending on sensory awareness to pilot, but I wasn't about to intimidate the Doc by trying that now. Wasn't always successful anyway.

I lost myself in the sensations of flying, thrilling at the feel of the ship moving beneath me, with me, relaxing as I played with the last remaining ship. This is where I feel most at home. Behind the controls of a responsive craft, nothing but the vastness of space around me. All the mistakes and hesitations bleeding away into the vacuum. No past, no future, just the sensations of the moment. Just the challenge of perception and response, no ethical considerations or logical debates.

I heard an odd sound from the co-pilot's seat and looked over to see the Doc's eyes dancing with merriment and scarcely contained laughter. Huh? Guess it was time to finish off the aliens and let the Doc try his hand. Had almost forgotten he was there in the rapture of flight. "Guess I should let you have a turn." I fired the phasers, destroying the alien craft, and turned back to the ship. I could sense him struggling. He seemed to want to say something, but didn't know what or how. He moved back into his seat, pulling himself back into control. Okay, so maybe this wasn't about not finishing off the other ship. But what?

I maneuvered carefully into the bay, setting the shuttle down gently, as I suddenly became aware of my incessant narration. Maybe I'd said something. I'd explained the process of flying so many times that it came out of habit, allowing me to relax and enjoy the act of flying without thinking about what to say. "Well, Doc? Are you ready to try?"

I turned to face the Doc, to see if he had any questions before attempting to take the shuttle out himself. He was staring at me intently, absolutely still and silent. Then he slowly leaned toward me, closing the space between us. I realized what was happening just before our lips touched. Definitely not about the alien ship. I had been so involved in flying that I had almost forgotten about the Doc for a minute. But I was acutely aware of the body next to me now. The soft lips touching my own. And knew I wanted them to do more.

Even as I processed the thought, his lips began to move, brushing gently across my lips as we moved closer. The kiss intensified, and I began to find it difficult to think. Our mouths instinctively sought each other. I could feel a gentle touch on my neck. The Doc moving to kneel beside me. Wet tongue probing deeper. The maddening scratch of rough wool under my fingers. Strong arms encircling my waist. Denim pulling tight across my cock. Our bodies moving to press against each other. I felt myself rising out of the chair to strain against him.

And then it was over. I fell back into my seat, his arms still around me. Could do nothing but stare. Gods, hadn't expected it to be so intense. So… wonderful. Had never imagined. Holy shit. I didn't want it to stop. But not yet. Not ready for more. Hadn't even been sure if I wanted this. But I knew now. Wanted it desperately. But not yet. Had to regain control.

I closed my eyes, struggling to pull myself together, fighting to ignore the ache in my groin. I opened my eyes to see the Doc standing by my chair. He cleared his throat before speaking, but the passion was still evident in his voice, a breathless, throaty rumble that I'd never heard from him before. "Well, I guess it's my turn now." His turn? For what?

The shuttle. I moved automatically to let the Doc take my place, dropping heavily into the co-pilot's seat. He began running through the pre-flight sequence, repeating it perfectly without hesitation. Damn. He could still think? I was finding it difficult to breathe. I considered myself an expert on psychological control, rivaling even Tuvok in my powers of denial, but had never been very good at physical control. Rarely tried to control my passions, preferring to let the sensations wash over me in wave after overwhelming wave. And wasn't that effective, even if I did try to control them, unless I had a damn good psychological reason. The one form of denial I'd never been very good at.

But the Doc seemed to have no such problems. Guess it came in handy to have all the aspects of your life filed away in separate subroutines. A mistake in one section would not affect anything else. And if any trauma was too much to compartmentalize and ignore, you could just change the programming or delete the memory record. But that was an easy way out. One he wouldn't have chosen, had Janeway given him the option. And surviving all the bad shit was what made you strong, made you who you are. Knowing that you could survive whatever fate chose to fuck you with today.

But I was supposed to be giving a piloting lesson. And I wasn't paying attention to the Doc's technique at all. At least not his piloting technique. Of course, that had been one hell of a distraction. Shouldn't really be expected to focus after a kiss like that. More intense than I had felt in a long time, since the uncomplicated times with B'Elanna. More passionate than I would've thought the Doc capable of expressing. No, focus.

I forced myself to pay attention to the movement of the shuttle. To my surprise, he seemed to be handling it just fine. We were out in open space now and he was taking the shuttle through basic maneuvers. I could detect a few bumps and irregularities, but far better than I would have expected for a beginner. Despite my teasing comment, I knew the Doc didn't really have an eidetic memory. Hadn't really expected him to do it this easily without help. And there, that sharp bank to starboard and smooth roll out. I knew I hadn't done that combination, although all the elements had been there. He wasn't just repeating my earlier actions, but experimenting with the craft, getting the feel of it for himself.

I started to smile proudly, but stopped before I gave myself away. This was routine maneuvering, although more advanced than I'd expected, and I wasn't about to say anything just yet. Just because the man was a damn good kisser, he wasn't gonna get it any easier than anybody else. I had a reputation as a tough flight instructor, and I was going to earn it. See how he handled combat first.

"Computer, initiate battle sequence Paris sixteen, one opponent, level two." I'd only planned to use level one, but what the hell. This just added a trap opening. The ship would materialize in perfect firing range, weapons already primed to fire. The Doc would get hit, but with fast reflexes should be able to avoid more than a few hits. As expected, the ship materialized dead astern, but to my surprise, he instantly threw the shuttle hard to port, skimming lightly under the wing and following the smooth lines of the alien craft to a safe position at the rear. Although the energy beam passed close enough that you would've been able to hear the sizzle in an oxygen atmosphere, it somehow missed the shuttle altogether. Damn. How the hell did he do that with his lack of experience? I snorted in surprise, and saw the Doc smile in satisfaction. Oh well, he'd earned that. No favoritism involved.

Now to see if he could maintain that level of skill, or if it was just beginner's luck. I settled back to watch as the Doc maneuvered the shuttle around the larger craft. He stuck closely to the ship, staying tight against its side as it tried to move back into firing position. That was a good sign. Most beginners were afraid to get close, staying loosely back in situations that required tight control. The Doc was firing steadily at the rear weapons turret, staying easily in a consistent relative position despite the wild movements of the other ship. Also impressive. But the real test would be how quickly he figured out that the alien's shields were impenetrable, actually drawing strength from his fire.

The last person I had used this particular opponent with was B'Elanna. Once she figured out that the shields drew energy from her phaser fire, she demanded an engineering explanation for how this could be possible. When I couldn't provide a satisfactory answer, arguing that we frequently encountered alien technology that we didn't fully understand, she'd refused to continue. Said that such a shield technology was impossible and ended the program. But when I entered her quarters later, she had Voyager's shield schematics pulled up on her LCARS terminal, trying to figure out a way to break the rules for herself. I smiled fondly at the memory. Had to love that persistence and ingenuity, even if it did come with a temper.

"Their shields are impenetrable." The voice broke into my thoughts, jarring me back to the present. I smirked slightly, amused by the flatness of tone and irritation in the Doc's voice.

"That's right." I smiled at him encouragingly, trying to atone for my smugness. "Although that is an admitted long shot in this quadrant, for surprise encounters at least, it's always possible." He'd figured out the trick quickly, much faster than I'd anticipated. Although I was honestly impressed, I tried not to show it. If he continued to show such surprising skill, he might want to expand his programming into piloting next. Didn't pay to let him get too cocky. "As you figured out, you'll never get through their shields with regular phasers. What you have to do is…"

"Let me…." The Doc quickly cut me off before I could continue, but then let the sentence hang in the air. Clearly he had no idea what to do, but wasn't willing to give up so easily. "Let me see if I can figure out something." I wasn't sure whether that was part of his original programming or one of the ways he'd evolved, but it was definitely a good character trait. No matter how impossible the situation seemed, he would work tirelessly to find the solution. Without B'Elanna's temper, managing to remain calm and rational for however long it took. And without my impatience, never forcing an imperfect solution for the sake of acting immediately.

The Doc maneuvered around the ship, firing phasers at a different strength and duration each time, then pausing to study the sensor readouts. I watched in fascination. What was he up to? He was clearly experimenting but seemed to have a working theory. Each firing sequence followed a definite pattern, but I wasn't sure what the purpose was. He concentrated the primary phasers on one location in a sustained burst for five or six seconds, then fired the secondary phasers at a different target with the primaries still active. What the hell was he planning? I hadn't ever seen anyone go about this problem quite this way, although I'd used this opponent for at least thirty different training lessons. The Doc studied the readouts for a moment, then turned to me, excitement evident on his features.

"Tom, is it possible to control the phaser beam width?" I studied him in surprise. Obviously he had a plan. And equally as obvious, it wasn't the plan I'd anticipated. Although I knew there were other ways to solve the problem, the easiest one was to just punch through the alien shields and ride in tight against their hull. Inside the boundary of their shield, there was nothing to provide protection from your phasers. Maneuvering at such close range was a little tricky, but the alien ship was left defenseless.

But I'd been asked a question. "Yes, of course, Doc. But…." I forced myself to stop. Maybe he'd figured out a new solution. Although I'd seen people solve this puzzle a couple different ways, it had never been something I hadn't already thought of. Now that would be impressive. "How would you like to change them?" Give him a chance to see if his theory worked.

"Make the primary phasers have as wide a beam as you can and still maintain firing power. And the secondary phaser on as narrow a beam as possible." Hmm. Still no idea what he was up to, and he offered no explanation. Well, it was worth a try anyway, whatever it was.

I leaned over to enter the proper specifications into the computer. "There, it's ready." Show time. I relaxed back into my seat, ready to watch the Doc's plan take effect.

"Thank you, Tom." He smiled at me for some reason. "Now to see if this works." He worked to stay tight up against the alien ship, facing toward them rather than staying parallel. The Doc fired the primary phasers in a sustained beam, but angled them off to the side so they barely touched the surface of the shields before reflecting off harmlessly into space. What the fuck? But he seemed quite pleased with this, adjusting the phasers to hit at an even more indirect angle.

I was beginning to doubt the Doc's sanity. Sure as hell didn't look like any solution I'd ever seen. But then he activated the secondary phasers, the tight narrow beam focused directly in front of us. And amazingly enough, they sliced right through the shields, impacting directly on the field generator and quickly eliminating the protective shield altogether. I sat dumbfounded. Where the hell did that come from? Then instead of finishing off the now defenseless ship, the Doc shut down the primary phasers. With exasperating precision and deliberateness, he slowly moved around the ship and carefully severed each weapons turret from the primary hull with the secondary phaser beam. Once this was completed, he turned the shuttle and calmly headed back to the docking bay.

The Doc landed smoothly and then turned to me expectantly. "Well?" Why did he leave the ship there, where it could signal for backup, or initiate a warp core overload that could destroy Voyager? And how the hell did he come up with that ingenious technique for destroying their shields in the first place?

But I was supposed to be the instructor here. Not just sit there with my jaw hanging open. I pulled myself together and tried to look a little less surprised. "You did very well." Understatement of the year. "You handled the maneuvering very well, especially hugging their shields at the end. A little jerky at times," just to keep him from getting too cocky, "but very smooth for your first time." I smiled encouragingly at him as we stood to exit. Pretty smooth first contact procedure as well. "Quick reflexes, avoiding the first attack like that. And capable of improvising and following your instincts, figuring out how to get around their shields." Wasn't about to tell him that I hadn't figured out how he did it yet. I had a reputation to maintain after all. "Not the way I would have done it, but obviously effective." I let my curiosity show as I added, "But Doc, why didn't you finish them off?" He stopped to face me, carefully deliberating the best way to explain.

I was acutely aware of the differences between us at that moment. I was itching to get an answer, wanting to ask a million questions about his plan for overcoming the shields, ready to start lesson two. And now that he'd started it, wanting to find out what came after the kiss, ready to take matters into my own hands and speed up the pace of our developing relationship. Yet the Doctor was calmly deliberating on the most effective way to communicate. No tension in his body, the epitome of stillness. Like Tuvok, but with an actual heart. Well, maybe just a holographic heart, but actual compassion and tenderness. And somehow that calm was almost as wonderful as the welcome embrace of open space. Soothing away the tension and restlessness, but not repressing the energy.

The Doc smiled at me, decision reached. I could see the tenderness and affection in his eyes, hear it in his voice as he began to speak, and barely managed to keep from responding to it. "I'm a doctor, Tom. I can do no harm. And now, neither can they."

I stared at him wordlessly for a moment, with no clue how to respond to that. Then a slow smile crept across my face. Had to respect that. The Doc was one of the most caring and humane people I'd ever met, even if he was a projection programmed to respond that way. Should've known he'd come up with a way to resolve the conflict without endangering the lives of either crew. And unlike me, he had the patience to wait until he came up with that solution.

I smiled at him, immensely pleased with the evening's events. "Good lesson, Doc." Another understatement. "I'll have to come up with something to keep it interesting next time." Both for the flying lesson and in response to that kiss. The Doc smiled broadly, obviously pleased with the suggestion. I wasn't sure for a moment whether he'd caught the double entendre, but as I held his gaze for a moment, I saw a faint flush rising in his cheeks. Oh yeah, he got it. I grinned evilly and turned to go before anything more could be said. More interesting to keep him in suspense. Raised the stakes a little.

I called back over my shoulder, "I had fun, Doc." And as I said it, realized that it was true. More fun than I'd had in a while. With the promise of much more interesting things to come. "See you around." And left before he could respond. Let him think about that one for a while. Let us both think about it.

**THE END** - but have you read _Witchcraft_? If you enjoyed _Unexpected Possibilities_, don't forget to check out the Doctor's POV in _Witchcraft_, which will post 5/22/12.

I'd love to hear what you think, and how your experience of the two fics influenced each other, regardless of which fic you read first. Also, I have one additional Star Trek: Voyager fic posted under another account, _The Judgement of Paris_ posted as 2-4-joy, if you enjoyed this one.


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